It's the pauses I didn't expect. The machine-gun-fast hipster aphorisms I was prepared for: "No one pops a wheelie for their entire life" (on his career); "The fish stinks from the head down" (on leadership); "I don't do blow. What would I do on cocaine? Start barking and head-butting people? Flame would shoot off me. It would be game over." But every so often he would pause and look over to the side. I figured he was waiting for me to catch up in my notebook, but he would do it even when I wasn't writing. Jeremy Piven was contemplating.